Dark Benediction

“Novotny says.”

“But why?” Benet wailed.

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘why!’”

“OK. I’ll tell you why. Brodanovitch is going to put the ‘ship off limits. If I get you guys in under the wire, you’ve got no gripe later on—when Suds hangs out the big No.”

“Joe, that’s chicken.”

Novotny put on the brakes. “Get out and walk back, Benet.”

“Joe—!”

“Benet.”

“Look, I didn’t mean anything.”

Novotny paused. If Brodanovitch was going to try to do things the hard way, he’d lose control of his own men unless he gave them. loose rein for a while first—keeping them reminded that he still had the reins. But Benet was getting out of hand lately. He had to decide. Now.

“Look at me, Benet.”

Benet looked up. Joe smacked him. Benet sat back, looking surprised. He wiped his nose on the back of a glove and looked at the red smear. He wiped it again. The smear was bigger.

“You can stay, Benet, but if you do, I’ll bust your hump after we get back. You want it that way?”

Benet looked at the rocket; he looked at Joe; he looked at the rocket. “Yeah. We’ll see who does the busting. Let’s go.”

“All right, but do you see any other guys taking their teams over?”

“No.”

“But you think you’re getting a chicken deal.”

“Yeah.”

The pusher drove on, humming to himself. As long as he could keep them alternately loving him and hating him, everything was secure. Then he was Mother. Then they didn’t stop to think or rationalize. They just reacted to Mother. It was easy to handle men reacting, but it wasn’t so easy to handle men thinking. Novotny liked it the easy way, especially during a heavy meteor fall.

“It is of no importance to me,” said Madame d’Annecy, “if you are the commandant of the whole of space, M’sieur. You wish entrance, I must ask you to contribute thees small fee. It is not in my nature to become unpleasant like thees, but you have bawl in my face, M’sieur.”

“Look,” said Brodanovitch, “I didn’t come over here for… for what you think I came over here for.” His ears reddened. “I don’t want a girl, that is.”

The madame’s prim mouth made a small pink O of sudden understanding. “Ah, M’sieur, I begin to see. You are one of those. But in that I cannot help you. I have only girls.”

The engineer choked. He started toward the hatch. A man with a gun slid into his path.

“Permit yourself to be restrained, M’sieur.”

“There are four men in there that are supposed to be on the job, and I intend to get them. And the others too, while I’m at it.”

“Is it that you have lost your boy friend, perhaps?”

Brodanovitch croaked incomprehensibly for a moment, then collapsed onto a seat beside the radar table that Madame d’Annecy was using for an accounting desk. “I’m no fairy,” he said.

“I am pleased to hear it, M’sieur. I was beginning to pity you. Now if you will please sign the sight draft, so that we may telecast it—”

“I am not paying twelve hundred dollars just to get my men out of there!”

“I do not haggle, M’sieur. The price is fixed.”

“Call them down here!”

“It cannot be done. They pay for two hours, for two hours they stay. Undisturbed.”

“All right, let’s see the draft.”

Madame d’Annecy produced a set of forms from the map case and a small gold fountain pen from her ample bosom. “Your next of kin, M’sieur?” She handed him a blank draft.

“Wait a minute! How did you know where my ac-count—”

“Is it not the correct firm?”

“Yes, but how did you know?” He looked at the serial number on the form, then looked up accusingly. “This is a telecopy form. You have a teletransmitter on board?”

“But of course! We could not risk having payment stopped after services rendered. The funds will be transferred to our account before you leave this ship. I assure you, we are well protected.”

“I assure you, you are all going to jail.”

Madame d’Annecy threw back her head and laughed heartily. She said something in French to the man at the door, then smiled at the unhappy engineer. “What law prevails here, M’sieur?”

“UCOJE does. Uniform Code of Justice, Extraterrestrial. It’s a semi-military—“

“U.N.-based, I believe?”

“Certainly.”

“Now I know little of thees matters, but my attorneys would be delighted, I am certain, if you can tell me: which articles of thees UCOJE is to be used for inducing us to be incarcerated?”

“Why… Uh…” Suds scratched nervously at one corner of his moustache. He glanced at the man with the gun. He gazed forlornly at the sight draft.

“Exactly!” Mme. d’Annecy said brightly. “There have been no women to speak of on the moon since the unfortunate predicament of les en/ants perdus. The moon-born grotesque ones. How could they think to pass laws against thees—thees ancien establishment, thees maison intime—when there are no women, eh M’sieur?”

“But you falsified your papers to get clearance. You must have.”

“But no. Our clearance is ‘free nation,’ not ‘world federal.’ We are an entertainment troupe, and my government’s officials are most lenient in defining ‘entertainment.’ Chacun a son gout, eh?”